


the edge of the big reveal (could be the end of the story)

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, M/M, Suffering, dots and dashes au, gerard runs cross country and frank's a dropout, music video au, no happy ending, nobody dies but it does not end happily ye be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard hates cross country, though having a boyfriend there to pick him up from practice every day does make things better</p>
            </blockquote>





	the edge of the big reveal (could be the end of the story)

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU for the music video for the song Dots and Dashes (Enough Already) by Silversun Pickups, which is a wonderful song and a wonderful video, which i recommend you watch after you read the fic, as it could spoil some things. I'll put a link to it in the end notes. Anyway, enjoy!

Gerard runs cross country. Sports were never his strong suit, but getting shit to put on his college applications can be one hell of a motivator. When he was first looking at tryouts he figured cross country would be easy. All you have to do is run, right? Well, technically that’s true. However, Gerard was not aware that it entails running for hours in the hot sun until sweat soaks through your shirt and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse like a pair of deflated balloons. He should really quit smoking, or else he’s not going to have the lung capacity to make it to the end of the season. The coach even talked to him about winter track, and Gerard really,  _ really  _ doesn’t want to do that, though he fears he might have to if his mom gets her way. 

Frank is what makes the whole thing worth it. Frank Anthony Iero is the kid everybody talks about but nobody actually knows. A thousand legends swirl around him in spirals of rumor and gossip. The stories range from “he got expelled for picking fights too much” to “he ran away from some place up in Vermont because he just couldn’t take it anymore” to “he killed someone”. Gerard is one of the few who know the real truth. It’s nothing to worry about, though he has to admit that having a boyfriend who’s a rumored murderer is an excellent deterrent for bulles. Not that Gerard’s been bullied since Freshman year. 

Frank pulls up on his scooter outside the track every day after practice without fail. The other kids on the cross country team all watch and stare as Gerard smiles at him through the fence before escaping the confines of the track into the outside world. 

“You’re gonna end up dead, Way,” one of them informs him. Chris is one of the kids who’s convinced himself that Frank’s a stone cold killer. 

Gerard shrugs. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Ugh,” he hears Elise groan as he slips through the gate. “Even if he does die, at least he won’t have to be here.” 

“How’s track?” Frank asks when Gerard climbs on the back of the scooter. 

“Cross country,” Gerard corrects. “And it’s hell on Earth, as usual.”

“Good thing I’m here to rescue you, then,” Frank jokes. 

“My hero,” Gerard replies smoothly, wrapping his arms around Frank’s neck and pressing a kiss into his hair. “So, are we going to your place or what?” 

“I actually have something else in mind,” Frank says. 

  
  


After a ten minute ride, they pull up outside a house. It sprawls out across what looks to be several thousand square feet and is painted in a soft pink shade. It’s far more expensive than anything Frank’s family or Frank’s friends’ families could ever afford. 

“Whose house is this?” Gerard asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Frank shrugs. “Dunno. The boys and I found it when we were driving around the other day. It’s currently unoccupied, so we figured we could make use of it.”

“The boys from your band?” Gerard asks. 

“Are there any other boys?” Frank replies, grinning. “Now c’mon, let’s go around back.” Frank hops off the scooter and Gerard follows, racing around the side of the house. They skid to a halt in front of a tall picket fence that completely encloses the backyard. “Up and over,” Frank announces, standing on tiptoe in order to hoist himself over the fence. 

“Isn’t this breaking and entering?” Gerard asks. 

“We aren’t breaking anything,” Frank replies, dropping down on the other side. “Now hurry up!”

“Oh my god,” Gerard whispers under his breath before leaping up and scraping at the fence with his shoes to get himself over. Dropping down, he discovers a smiling Frank standing in front of a pool. 

“I thought we could go swimming,” Frank says, “It’s hot enough out here.” Frank then shrugs off his jacket and cannonballs into the pool. 

“Ew,” Gerard laughs when Frank comes up for air. “You left your shoes and socks on! Now your feet are gonna be all soggy.” 

“Pfft,” Frank snorts. “You think I didn’t know that?” 

Gerard steps on his heels and wriggles his feet out of his sneakers before sliding into the pool. The icy rush takes him by surprise. “Holy shit!” he exclaims, “It’s cold as balls in here!” 

“That’s kind of the point,” Frank says, swimming over and ruffling Gerard’s hair. 

The two of them splash around for a little while until the sweat that had coated Gerard’s body was replaced by chlorinated water. 

“Are you ever going to dunk?” Frank asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“No way,” Gerard replies. “I’ll get chlorine in my hair.” 

“You need a shower anyway,” Frank says, and before Gerard can say anything, Frank has him by the shirt collar and is pulling him underwater. Gerard’s vision fills with blue with his only point of reference being Frank, who is grinning like the little shit he is. Before Gerard can struggle free from Frank’s grip Frank wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck and pulls him into a tight kiss. They keep their lips locked together, not daring to open their mouths to deepen the kiss in case water were to get in. When they finally emerge, Gerard’s lungs are about to explode. 

“Gah!” he gasps as he breaks the surface. He’s sopping wet now, soaked through from head to toe. There’s water in his ears, eyes, and nose, obscuring all his senses. He barely has time to get his bearings before Frank pushes him against the side of the pool and kisses him again. This time, without the water in the way, Gerard has the freedom to open his mouth and let Frank in. Frank’s hands tangle in Gerard’s hair, now soaked through and stringy. Gerard can feel his wet shirt clinging to his sides and the pool’s edge digging into his back and it’s uncomfortable but he doesn’t care. It’s hard to focus on much when Frank has left Gerard’s lips behind and is kissing along his jawline and Frank’s knee is coming up right between Gerard’s legs. 

“Fuck,” Gerard splutters. “I do  _ not _ want to enter a sexual situation in some random person’s pool.” 

“Are you sure?” Frank murmurs, taking a break from sucking hard on Gerard’s neck. 

“Positive,” Gerard grates out. “If you want to fuck me, you can fuck me, but we’re going home first. Besides, I need to change.” 

“Fine,” Frank says with a teasingly disappointed tone. “Let’s go home and fuck.”

And they do. 

  
  


On most days they just go straight home, usually Frank’s place, because his mom’s never home and he has a recording studio in his basement. 

“Tarot cards,” Frank says, placing a box on his bed. “My cousin left ‘em the last time she came to visit, ‘cause she’s into all that mystic shit.”

“What do they mean?” Gerard asks, taking one out of the box and examining it. 

“Not a fucking clue,” Frank replies. “But we can guess, right?” He holds one up for Gerard to see. “This dude’s hanging upside down. He’s probably being punished for something. What do you think he did?”

“He grabbed some random woman’s tits,” Gerard says, smirking. “And the whole village descended on him.”

Frank snickers. “Serves his ass right. But how do you know he lives in a village?”

“Nobody in a place that’s bit a village would hang a dude upside down,” Gerard points out. 

“Fair enough,” Frank agrees, nodding. “What about this one?” He holds up another, this time with an eye on it. 

“That’s the eye of God,” Gerard says, “It sees all.”

Frank presses the card to Gerard’s face so that eye aligns with his eye. “Now you have the eye of God. Does that make you God?”

“I can see all,” Gerard booms, deepening his voice. “I’ve watched you masturbate, Frank Iero.”

Frank nods sagely. “That you have.”

Gerard fall back laughing onto Frank’s twisted up comforter. “I really have, haven’t I?”

Frank falls forward next to him, smiling goofily. “That and worse.”

Gerard smiles back at him. “It’s weird how all the kids at school think you’re scary. Chris is dead set on you being a murderer.” 

Frank laughs. “Nah, I’m not a murderer, I’m just an asshole who dropped out to play in a band. Speaking of which, they’re coming over later.” 

“How much later?” 

“Seven, I think.”

“What time is it now?”

“Five fifty-four.”

Gerard gives Frank a cheeky grin. “We have an hour then.”

Frank raises an eyebrow and nods. “So we do,” he agrees. 

  
  


Gerard loves watching Frank’s band practice. If he’s entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t think that they’re very good, but Frank believes that they can make it, and Gerard loves seeing the passion that Frank puts into the music. Frank’s eyes close and his face strains as he screams lyrics full of blood and agony into the microphone. It’s a good thing that there’s nobody else in the house; they’d be entirely unable to focus on whatever they were doing. Gerard’s ears are buzzing by the time the song ends. 

“Do you ever think you’ll write a song about me?” Gerard wonders as Frank and his bandmates pack up their gear. 

Frank whacks Gerard lightly on the shoulder. “Move. You’re sitting on an amp.”

“I mean it,” Gerard insists. “Will you write a song about me?” 

“Nah, I can’t,” Frank says, throwing him a wry grin. 

“Why not?” 

Frank leans in to give him a peck on the mouth. “You make me too happy,” he says. 

“Gross!” one of Frank’s bandmates shouts from across the basement. 

“Get a room!” another chimes in. 

“Hey,” Frank says, “Shut the fuck up.” 

  
  


It’s a rare day when Gerard and Frank go to Gerard’s place, rather than Frank’s. They sit on Gerard’s bedroom floor together, leafing through his comic book collection. 

“Man, I miss these,” Frank sighs. “I wish Mom hasn’t thrown them all away.”

“Why’d she do that again?” Gerard asks. He knows the fact of Frank’s forsaken comic book collection well; Frank complains about it all the time, but Gerard can never remember why it happened. 

“I dropped out,” Frank answers simply. He looks up from the issue of Silver Surfer he’s holding. “Remind me how you got this?” he says, leaning forward and running his thumb over the stitched up scar that graces Gerard’s cheek. 

“Mikey,” Gerard tells him. “He dropped a camera on my face.”

Frank snorts. “He’s clumsy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Gerard admits. “But I love him.” He thinks for a moment. “Though I think I loved him a little less when the doctor was pulling a needle and thread through me cheek.” 

Frank laughs before saying, “Say, that camera, is it in the house?”

“It should be in Mikey’s room,” Gerard answers. “Why?”

“Hang on,” Frank says, scrambling up and bounding out the door, bare feet squeaking on the wooden floor. He comes back with Mikey’s camera in hand, the film already rolling. “This is Gerard Way, he’s my boyfriend.”

Gerard points at Frank. “And that’s Frank Iero, he’s my boyfriend and he’s the one holding the camera that split my face open. Mikey is gonna kill us when he finds this, y’know.”

“His skinny ass can try,” Frank scoffs. “Besides, he’s the one who dropped it on you, you should at least be allowed to use it.” 

“I just don’t think he’d like the idea of us making a sex tape using his camera,” Gerard laughs. 

Frank’s eyes widen. “I wasn’t suggesting that!” he exclaims in mock offense. “Unless you’re offering that is, because if you wanna make a sex tape I’m all fo-” Frank gets cut off by Gerard throwing a pillow at his head. “Anyway,” Frank says, panning around the room with the camera, “this is Gerard’s bedroom. He sleeps here, reads comics here, he even eats here sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Gerard admits, throwing a sideways glance at the crumb-covered plate sitting on his desk.” 

“These are his cross-country medals,” Frank continues, aiming the camera at the display on Gerard’s shelf. 

“Don’t,” Gerard groans. 

“They’re all participation awards, I see. Hmm.” 

“Fuck off,” Gerard says, burying his face under his pillow. “I hate cross country.” Gerard pokes his face out from underneath the pillow in time to see Frank grin. 

“This,” Frank says, “is why I dropped out.” 

  
  


The next excursion they take is to the reservoir on the southern edge of town. Their feet crunch on the pebble-filled sand and they watch the wind whip over the water. Gerard is still covered in sweat from his practice, but with the breeze that blows across the beach he’s cooling off quickly. 

Frank is standing at the water’s edge, skipping rocks of the surface. “I have a six skip record,” he says, poking his tongue out between his teeth. “Let’s see if I can beat it.” He flicks the rock outward, and the two of them watch as it skips five times before sinking down with a soft  _ plunk _ . “Dammit,” Frank curses. 

“So close,” Gerard says, resting his elbow on Frank’s shoulder. “It’s kinda boring out here, y’know?”

“Yeah, well, the family that has that pool is back in town. I checked before I came to pick you up,” Frank sighs. “I can take you home though, if that’s what you want.”

“Nah,” Gerard says, sitting down. He pries his sneakers off his feet and stretches his legs out, letting the water lap at his toes. The stones on the shore dig into his palms, but he doesn’t really notice. 

Frank sits down beside him. “It may be boring, but it sure is pretty,” he remarks.

“It is,” Gerard agrees. The sun is setting below the trees that ring the reservoir, casting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Gerard’s always liked the color pink; maybe he should dye his hair that color one day. He rests his head on Frank’s shoulder, giving a heavy sigh. He’s suddenly deeply aware of how exhausted he is. 

“Let me take you home,” Frank offers, reading Gerard’s mind. 

“Okay,” Gerard agrees.

  
  


“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Gerard says, trying to keep the lump forming in his throat from affecting his voice. They’re standing in Gerard’s front hallway, Sunday afternoon light filtering in through the window. 

“We got an offer!” Frank exclaims happily. fortunately oblivious to Gerard’s emotional state. “We’re going out the day after tomorrow, all five of us! We’re finally gonna make it big time.” 

“That’s amazing,” Gerard says, “I’m so happy for you.”

“Mom’s gonna be so proud of me. Dropping out actually got me somewhere, imagine that!” Frank whips out his phone and starts texting someone, presumably his mom. He looks up at Gerard, smiling. “I wanted you to be the first to know. We’ll have to work out a way to keep in contact of course, but otherwise, this is the best thing to ever happen to me.” Frank wraps his arms tightly around Gerard’s shoulders, practically crushing his ribs. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Gerard whispers. 

“You’ll be okay,” Frank replies. “It’s for the best, after all.”

“I guess so,” Gerard concedes. 

  
  


It’s been two weeks since Frank last called. He left early in the morning on the chosen day, not stopping by Gerard’s place to say goodbye one last time before taking off. At first the texts were constant, and they shared phone calls every evening. But now even the texts have all but ceased entirely. It’s good for him, Gerard tells himself, Frank doesn’t call because he’s too busy being successful. But no matter how many times he tries to comfort himself, Gerard doesn’t feel any better. 

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” the coach asks one day as cross country practice winds down. “He’s usually here by now.”

“He’s not coming,” Gerard tells her, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Oh,” Coach responds. 

Chris approaches him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look on the bright side,” Chris says, “at least you’re not reservoir.” 

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Thanks Chris.” 

Elise is a little more sympathetic. “C’mon, Gerard,” she says, “I have a car. I can drive you home.”

The ride with Elise is a silent one until they reach the bottom of Gerard’s driveway. “Here you are,” she says, unlocking the car door. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Gerard tells her honestly. 

“Any time,” Elise replies, running a hand through her long brown curls. “Oh, and Gerard?”

“What?” he asks, turning around. 

“I’m sorry.”

  
  


Though Gerard’s avoided saying anything to his mom, she picks up on his low mood anyway, as moms do. 

“Y’know, a nice hot bath does wonders,” she suggests offhandedly as he shuffles in the door. 

Gerard shrugs, figuring it can’t hurt. He sinks into the tub with the steam rising around him. It feels magnificent, especially after a long practice. For the first time since Frank left, Gerard manages not to think about what Frank is doing now, wherever he is. Gerard wonders instead about the pool that Frank brought him to. That afternoon, climbing over the fence, jumping in fully clothed, Frank tugging him under. It feels like a lifetime ago. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open, and Mikey yelling his name. “Gerard! What the fuck is this?” he says. 

“Jesus Christ Mikey, I’m in the bath,” Gerard exclaims, sitting up startled. 

“I didn’t take this video,” Mikey says. He’s waving around his camera, the one he dropped on Gerard’s face. “I haven’t taken any videos on this thing yet, other than the one I was taking when I dropped it on your face, and I deleted that one.”

“What video?” Gerard asks, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. 

“This!” Mikey exclaims, pressing a button on the camera and letting the video play. 

There’s a few minutes of silence, before a familiar voice begins to speak, “ _ This is Gerard Way, he’s my boyf-”  _ Mikey shuts it off before they can get any further in. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“Just delete it, Mikey,” Gerard sighs, leaning back in the bath. 

“I really am sorry, Ger-”

“Just delete it, for fuck’s sake.” 

Mikey exits the bathroom without another word. 

Gerard stays in the bath until the water grows cold and his palms look like prunes and he can hear his mom calling him for dinner. He’s been eating with his family more often lately. He supposes that’s a good thing. 

  
  


Months pass without a word from Frank. Gerard is past the point of caring, though. He’s thrown himself into school and comic books and, for once, cross country. 

“Wow Gerard,” Coach remarks during one practice. “Your time has improved exponentially over the past couple of months. I think you’re gonna do well in this upcoming meet. Good job.” She gives him a smile and a thumbs up. 

Gerard takes off down the track again, his feet kicking up the brown dirty because his school is too cheap to pave the track. He feels the sun on his back and he counts every breath, trying to line up his breathing with the rhythm of his footfalls. He closes eyes. When he opens them, he’s moving past the part of the fence that looks out on the road. Rush hour is just beginning, so the street is just starting to fill with cars. 

Then Gerard spots him, and he stops dead. At first all he see is a flash of black hair, and it could be anyone, a figment of his imagination, even. It  _ must  _ be, it  _ can’t  _ be real. But it is. It takes all of Gerard’s willpower not to call out to Frank, not to wave. He’s wearing sunglasses and has more tattoos than he had when Gerard last saw him. But he’s there, and he’s real. 

Gerard runs up to the fence, his eyes like saucers set into his face. He weaves his fingers through the chain links and watches as Frank crosses the street, not even glancing at the track he picked Gerard from every day. A car pulls to a stop on the other side of the road. Gerard squints and sees that a girl is driving. He doesn’t recognize her. She’s beautiful, though. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this AU is inspired by the music video for the song Dots and Dashes (Enough Already), which is probably one of my favorite music videos of all time. Anyway, here's a link which I highly recommend you utilize: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u33g0vlGaPM


End file.
